


don we now our gay apparel

by jified



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Established Relationship, F/F, but not really bc its actually just lighthearted modern au with peripheral zombies for comedy, really you can just ignore the zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 23:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jified/pseuds/jified
Summary: Mae and Celica wait for rescue from a local zombie outbreak in their tiny apartment. Good thing they already decorated and prepared for Milamas.





	don we now our gay apparel

"Windows are done, Celcs!" Mae's voice comes from the living room, and Celica looks up to smile at her as she comes into the kitchen. 

"Thanks, dear," Celica says, and pecks Mae on the cheek. Mae grins like a dope at her. 

"Boey also says that they're safe back in Novis," she adds. "And I looked up the news and we're quarantined, so the outbreak's only in this area."

Celica sighs in relief, looking away the batter she's mixing to smile at Mae.

"Thank goodness," she says. Mae huffs out a laugh as she leans in to wrap her arms gently around Celica, head resting on Celica's shoulder. Shifts to allow Celica to look back, then returns to her position laying in Celica. 

"Even if the zombies got out of here, Boey and the others'd be fine," Mae scoffs, drawing her arms in tighter for a moment. Celica tilts her head back, into Mae and lets herself relax into Mae's body, still whipping the batter. "They can take care of themselves."

"They're literal zombies, Mae," Celica says. "It's rather dangerous."

She frowns. "Think of all the people who've died, already. Maybe we shouldn't be celebrating..."

"Nah, that's just all the more reason to celebrate us being alive," Mae says cheerily. "And don't you worry about those stupid zombies, Celcs. I'll turn my trusty frying pan into a dying pan!"

Celica shakes her head, and laughs. 

"I know you stole that joke," she says. "But, well, I suppose. And I do have my dagger lying somewhere around here."

"See?" Mae grins, and lets go, backing off. Celica pours the batter into the cake pan. "We're golden! Totally fine. And we barricaded everything already. Super safe."

"Famous last words," Celica quips, and slides the pan into the oven. She frowns, again, as she shuts the door. "It's a shame that Alm and his friends aren't able to join us for Milamas. I hope they're alright."

"Text them?"

"I did, but they haven't replied."

"I'm sure they're fine," Mae says, patting Celica on the back and leading her out to the living room. Tinsle and other Milamas decor are strung up, some haphazard, some neat. It's easy to see which parts were done by Mae and which were by Celica. There's a small Milamas tree by the closet, ornaments hanging and fairy lights twinkling. Presents lay scattered beneath it. Mistletoe hangs on the doorways and Mae sneaks a kiss as they walk out of the kitchen. 

It's homey, bar the wardrobe shoved to barricade the front door, and the planks nailed over the windows. Other than that, and the constant groaning and banging outside, it's pretty hard to tell that there's a zombie outbreak happening right outside their apartment. 

"I hope rescue comes soon," Celica comments idly as they sit on the couch together. "Do you think they realise that there're survivors?"

"I think they've been alerted, yeah," Mae says. She glances at the windows. "Do you think we should add more planks to the windows?"

"We live on the ninth floor," Celica reminds her. Mae just shrugs. 

"Maybe they can climb," she says. "Or like, jump super high."

"To the ninth floor?" Celica asks wryly. 

"Uh, yeah," Mae says, as if it's an obvious fact. She raises her eyebrow. "Haven't you osmosed a bunch of zombie knowledge from Alm and his video games?"

"Mae," says Celica. "Video games aren't real."

"There's gotta be some truth in them," Mae says. She waves her hand to make some vague gesture in the air, and Celica snorts. Mae sticks her tongue out in defiance. It's cute, and Celica finds herself smiling fondly at her girlfriend. 

"Well, I suppose there will be now," she concedes. "If they get us out of here, at least."

"Of course they'll get us out of here!" Mae declares, and throws an arm around Celica. She cuddles against her, warm and soft. Celica melts into Mae, untensing and letting out a long breath. "Don't be such a downer."

"It's not good to set too high expectations," Celica still says, because as cute as Mae is, it might hurt somewhere down the line, "but I guess it's not bad to be optimistic."

"Chill out, Celcs," Mae tells her. "It's just the zombie apocalypse."

"'Just' the zombie apocalypse indeed," Celica says, nodding along in part fondness, in part amusement. 

"Yeah, and also it's Milamas," Mae tacks on. "Merry Milamas! Here's our present from Santa. I guess we're on his naughty list. Ooh, what bad have you been doing, Celcs?"

Celica actually pauses to think about it for a moment. 

"You," Celica decides to say, because it's hard to pass up, even with her entire upbringing screaming at her. But it's totally worth the way Mae shakes with laughter against her, pressing into Celica and sending a thrum through her chest. 

"You've been hanging out with Saber too much!" Mae cries out when she manages to get over her little fit. "Aww, little Celica's all grown up and making dirty jokes! Best Milamas gift ever."

Celica huffs quietly. "My Milamas gift is much better than that. Are you trying to insult me?"

"No way, Celcs!" Mae instantly backtracks, eyes blowing wide, waving her hands and shaking her head. "I mean, you'll totally have the best Milamas gift ever, and also you're the best girlfriend ever, the greatest, everyone else pales in comparison to you-"

Celica laughs as she pushes Mae lightly. 

"I get it, I get it," she says, giggling. Mae starts giggling too, and jumps out fom Celica's embrace, up from the couch. 

"C'mon," she cajoles. "Let's see how good our Milamas gifts are."

Celica stands up as well, indulgently letting herself get dragged to the small tree in the corner of the room. She flicks on their radio while they're at it. Mae had insisted that radios were old-fashioned and lame, but Celica hadn't budged, and eventually they'd gotten one. 

"Huh," she says, as the radio starts blasting Milamas carols. "They're still playing carols. Even with the zombie outbreak."

"Yeah," Mae shrugs. Celica can feel it from where their hands connect, the way Mae's arm shifts languidly. "I mean, it's a big deal, I guess, but it isn't that big of an area. Plus, it's still Milamas."

"I just thought it odd," Celica says. 

"The only thing odd about it is the shit songs they're playing," Mae retorts, as they reach the tree. "Okay, wait, let me get out my phone. Celcs, could you-"

"Right," Celica says before Mae even finishes speaking, and strides back to turns the radio off. The (pretty bad, Celica will admit) cover of _We Wish You a Merry Milamas_ cuts abruptly, and Mae sighs in relief. 

"See, this is why we shouldn't have gotten a radio," she remarks. "People have no taste nowadays."

"I distinctly recall you dancing to that "shitty", or so you said, Ed Sheeran song once," Celica points out. Mae winces down at her phone, thumb swiping the screen. 

"We don't talk about that," she says, and then lights up as she reaches the song she wants to play. "Alright, now _this_ is a proper carol. Not one of those thousands of dumb remixes of all the _mainstream_ songs."

 _Grandma Got Run Over by a Raindeer_ starts blasting, and Celica raises an eyebrow. 

"I wouldn't exactly call this hipster, or whatever you call it, Mae," she says.

"Yeah, but at least it isn't, like, totally super duper _mainstream_ ," Mae protests. 

"Mainstream isn't bad," Celica says. "And I know you love _Santa Baby_."

"I love all songs that are for the gays," Mae tells her primly. 

"I see," Celica says, though she doesn't, really. Mae just scoffs. She places her phone down on the nearest table, before spinning around and pointing dramatically at Celica. 

"Celcs, I love you and all, but you just don't get it," she says, heaving out a huge sigh in faux despair. Her entire body moves with it, expanding and deflating with the inhalation, exhalation. Celica blinks. 

"I don't," she agrees. 

"Maybe one of the zombies will get it," Mae says, and turns up the volume. The sound of groaning and banging doesn't change. "They get it."

"Of course they do, Mae," Celica says, like a good girlfriend, because Celica is a good girlfriend. Mae pats her on the head, despite being a decent deal shorter. Celica dips her head slightly, not enough to be condescending, but enough to make it easier for Mae. 

Mae turns back to the tree, and kneels down to grab the presents underneath it. There's some addressed to Alm and his friends, but given that they can't make it anymore due to circumstances, Mae ignores them. Celica watches as Mae takes the two presents addressed to the two of them. Which, are, well, labelled _To Mae From Celica_ and _To Celica From Mae_ respectively. Probably because it's only them who've put presents underneath the tree. 

Alm and the others would have placed them when they arrived. Milamas spirit, and all.

"I hope that Alm and his friends are alright," Celica says again, biting her lip. Mae makes a vague sound of a agreement, and hands the present to Celica. 

"I'm sure they are," Mae says, and Celica smiles. 

"Thanks, Mae," she says. 

"Say that after you've opened the present," replies Mae, and Celica does just that. Mae's hands twist in her jacket, out of nervousness or out of excitement, Celica's not sure, but all thoughts are swept away as Celica delicately removes the packaging to reveal a pair of golden teardrop earrings. 

They sparkle in the soft yellow lighting, as Celica gingerly takes them out of the box. Clinking and jingling as she holds them up, and she gently grasps them in her palm. 

"Oh, they're beautiful, Mae," she breathes, and Mae beams happily, eyes crinkling at the ends. 

"I thought of you, Celcs, and I just had to buy it," she chirps, practically vibrating in place.

"I'll put it on later," Celica promises. 

"You should probably put it on before we get rescued and put in a bunker with no mirror, or something," Mae says. Celica huffs at her, placing the earrings back into the box with great care.

"I'm perfectly capable of putting on earrings with no mirror," she says. Mae rolls her eyes, a smile tugging on her lips, and she leans forward to embrace Celica for a brief moment. 

"You're just that good, huh," she teases, and Celica shoves her gently.

"It's common knowledge, and you would know that, Ms I-Have-A-Navel-Piercing," she says. Mae laughs in response, gripping the gift in her hands tightly. 

"Yeah, but I can totally see my navel piercing," Mae protests, and Celica flicks the stud embedded in Mae's nose. 

"Sure," says Celica. 

"Oh no," Mae says, smiling so hard that Celica can practically feel the ache in her cheeks, "you got me."

"Just hurry up and open your present," Celica tells her, and Mae laughs even more as she does. Then Mae gasps, instead.

"Oh Mila," she says, as she grips the book in her hands. "Is this an actual scrapbook?"

"I spent quite a bit of time on it, so you'd better treasure it," Celica remarks, and Mae throws her arms around her, her present hanging loosely from her fingers. But Mae won't drop it. Celica knows that for a fact, intimately. 

"Of course I'll treasure it," Mae says, then leans back out to flip through the book. "Wow. This is so cheesy and cute. I'm going to die."

"I'll make sure your body doesn't get fed to the zombies," promises Celica.

"Nah, let 'em get some food," Mae shakes her head, still fully engrossed in Celica's present to her. "Oh, wow, when did you even take this?"

She jabs her finger at a photo of herself. Celica looks over them, already recalling the memories. 

"We were in Rigel," she says. It had snowed overnight, and Mae had been cheering the entire morning, until she'd finally gotten the chance to run out of their hotel and jump into a pile of snow like a dumb kid. 

The photo shows that moment, Mae buried in snow, mouth wide open and eyes closed as she laughed and laughed and laughed. 

"Well, duh," Mae says. "Even I'm not that dumb."

"You're not dumb, Mae," says Celica, but Mae just snorts. 

"Sure," she says absently. Celica frowns slightly. "Aw, don't make that face, Celcs."

Celica sighs, and drops the subject. 

"Merry Milamas," she says instead, wrapping her hand around Mae's. And Mae lets a lopsided grin shine at her, wide and beaming and beautiful just like the woman wearing it. 

"Yeah," she says, "Merry Milamas."

That's when the sound of muffled gunfire starts outside, and Mae and Celica scramble to the window to look through the planks. A tank is rolling down the snow-free street, soldiers flanking it and shooting down the zombies that remained uncrushed.

Mae had complained that they hadn't gotten a white Milamas, but Celica supposes it's probably better that they hadn't, in retrospect. Would have made it harder for the soldiers to run around, though, if Celica thinks about it more, they can probably do it just fine, being professionals and all. 

"Cool, looks like we're being rescued," Mae comments from where her nose is pressed to the glass, hands on either side of her head. 

"Not long now," Celica agrees. She watches a few soldiers bust into their apartment lobby downstairs. "I guess the cake won't be finished."

"Rest in pieces," says Mae. She claps her hands together in a prayer motion, and Celica snorts. Then her phone chimes, and she whips it out to glance at the screen

Hey, flashes a message from Alm. Sorry, some zombies wrecked our internet in our part of town. Just got rescued, and we're all fine. Hope you're still doing okay. Merry Milamas!

"Seems like Alm and the rest are fine, too," Celica says in relief, shoulders dropping.

"Told you so," Mae says, triumphant. "I guess what they say about good luck coming in threes is true, huh?"

"Threes?" Celica asks, cocking her head. She counts, rescue coming and Alm being safe; that's two. Mae grins, wild and bright. 

"Yeah, here's the third," she says, and sweeps in to kiss Celica, as soldiers get to their floor and start shouting for survivors. And Celica lets her eyes slip shut as she kisses back. 

It's a good Milamas, she reflects.

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas yall


End file.
